


Pushing

by spurious



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Gags, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-14
Updated: 2011-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, it's only because they know each other so well that Yoko can let Hina do this stuff to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the "humiliation (situational)" square of my kink_bingo card, so that will probably let you know what it's like.

The thing is, it's only because they know each other so well that Yoko can let Hina do this stuff to him, because Hina knows him well enough to know exactly how far he can push, but it's also what makes Yoko sometimes tell Hina they're never going to do this ever again, because Hina knows him well enough to know _exactly_ how far he can push, and he bumps right up against that limit every time.

Right now, when Yoko's on his knees, his cheeks flushed and burning, is one of those times when he wants to tell Hina they're never going to do this ever again.

"Mmmph mmmph ngnn," he says.

Hina laughs. "I know by now that's empty threat," he says, and _how the hell did he know what Yoko wanted to say?_

Yoko laughs through the gag filling his mouth, and Hina laughs too, and for a moment Yoko forgets his discomfort, but it returns as suddenly as it left.

The plastic ball of the gag is wet with his spit, and there's some running down his chin because he can't close his mouth properly. He swallows hard. Hina takes a step closer and Yoko looks at his feet on the hardwood floor. His jeans are a little long, the hem frayed from dragging on the ground. They're one of Hina's favorite pairs, and Yoko's seen them from this position more times than he's comfortable admitting.

"You're not paying attention," Hina says. Yoko breathes out through his nose. "Look at me."

Yoko's hands are resting on his knees. Hina ties him up sometimes, but a lot of the time he just tells Yoko where to keep his hands. When Yoko's tied up or handcuffed, he feels even less in control, can pretend he's not a willing participant. It dulls the edges of everything a little. He chances a glance up at Hina, feeling his heart beat faster.

"You should see yourself," Hina says. His voice is breathless; though he always plays the cool and collected character when they do this, Yoko knows it turns him on just as much.

Yoko imagines, for a moment, what he must look like: naked, on his knees, red in the face, mouth stretched around the gag, spit running down his chin, dick achingly hard. The image brings a fresh rush of embarrassment and he closes his eyes, ducking his head back down.

"Maybe we should go to the mirror." They've done that before, Yoko watching as Hina touched him, made a mess of him slowly and then fucked him, hard, up against the glass. Yoko doesn't want to go to the mirror.

He shakes his head, watches Hina's feet as he takes a step back, then kneels down in front of him.

"I told you to look at me," Hina says, his tone even. Yoko takes a long, shaky breath. " _Kimitaka._ "

At the sound of his name, Yoko lifts his head slowly, feeling a shiver run through his body. He meets Hina's eyes.

"You didn't look at me when I told you to." Yoko nods, clenches his jaw. "You'd better keep your hands right where they are," Hina says, and that's all the warning Yoko gets before he slaps him. Yoko makes a noise that's something like a scream, face screwing up with pain, but he doesn't move his hands, keeps them clenched in fists on his lap. There are tears in his eyes and he can feel the warm sting of pain blossoming on his cheek. Hina reaches out, covers Yoko's hands with his own for just a moment.

"Good," he says, then pulls his hands away.

Yoko tries to catch his breath. He feels like he's shaking, but when he looks down his body is still. He blinks, trying to clear his eyes of wetness before Hina can notice and--

"You're crying," Hina's voice sounds rough, somewhere between turned on and reverent. Yoko shakes his head because he's _not_ , it's just one or two tears from the sting of the slap, but Hina just looks at him. There's a pause, lengthy enough that Yoko's almost ready to look away, even if he would get slapped again.

"It really hurt that much, huh?" Hina asks, finally. If Yoko weren't gagged he'd say "of _course_ it hurt, you moron," but he hopes the expression on his face gets the point across well enough.

Hina laughs, low and breathless, and then reaches out a hand, tracing his fingers over the little stripes of pain on Yoko's cheek. It's starting to fade out already, the initial flare subsiding into a duller sort of stinging ache. Hina thumbs at Yoko's lower lip, and then he's pulling his hand back and slapping him again. There's no warning at all this time, and Yoko yelps, his hand reflexively going to his cheek. Hina lets him hold his face and breathe for about 30 seconds before he reaches out, fingers firm around Yoko's wrist, to pull his hand down. He holds it in Yoko's lap.

"Kimitaka," Hina says, warningly, and Yoko forces his eyes open. "One more, okay?"

Yoko shakes his head because he doesn't want one more, he hates being hit, and Hina lets go of his wrist. If Yoko really wants to stop, he just has to hold up his hands, give the signal. He considers it for a brief moment, then inwardly curses the part of himself that wants this, that practically needs it, and doesn't move his hands. He wishes he were tied up, or blindfolded, anything to make him feel less like this was his choice.

"Just one more," Hina says, and Yoko takes a deep breath before Hina's palm hits his cheek. There are tears in his eyes again and Yoko just lets them fall, his breath shaky.

Hina watches him for a moment, then reaches out, slowly, to run gentle fingers through Yoko's hair. Yoko wonders what it says about him that he almost feels more embarrassed by the display of tenderness than by anything they've done leading up to it. The touch feels good, though, and he's just starting to lean into it a little when Hina pulls his hand away and stands up.

"Stay," he says, the laughter in his tone poorly disguised, and Yoko glares up at him, feeling his face flush. Hina cocks his eyebrows and turns away, pulling off his shirt. Yoko watches the line of his back as he moves and feels an almost violent burst of arousal.

Hina sits down on his bed, legs splayed apart.

"Come here." Yoko moves to stand up, but Hina raises a hand and he stops. "I didn't say you could get up."

Yoko cringes a little before leaning forward, placing his hands on the floor in front of him. He keeps his head down as he crawls across the floor, not wanting to see Hina watching him, but he can feel his gaze anyway and it sends a hot, prickling rush of embarrassment through him. Something about it makes him uncomfortably aware of his own body, the wood hard against his knees, the cool air of the room on his bare skin. He stops in front of Hina, kneeling between his spread legs, and looks up, raising his eyes but not his face. Hina gives him a weird sort of smile.

"Head down," he says, and reaches out to unfasten the gag. He pulls it out, setting it aside, and gives Yoko a minute to open and close his mouth, working some of the soreness out of his jaw.

"Okay," Hina says, leaning back, "take my pants off."

Yoko has a brief, panicked thought that Hina's going to tell him he can't use his hands, but when he reaches out, Hina doesn't say anything, so he figures it's okay. Hina lifts his hips, sighing as Yoko tugs off his jeans, then his underwear. Yoko can see wetness glistening at the tip of his cock and he can't stop himself from staring.

Hina takes hold of the back of Yoko's head to pull him in, and Yoko curls his fingers around Hina's cock. He licks the head first, tasting, until Hina's hand tightens in his hair and he makes an impatient sound. Yoko sucks down to meet his fingers, humming, and when he pulls back he strokes his hand up through the slickness of his spit, twisting a little as he pulls. He keeps going, picking up the pace a little, until Hina's tugging him back.

"Don't wanna come yet," he mumbles, breathless, before bending forward to kiss Yoko hard. The urgency is obvious in the kiss, in Hina's hands firm on either side of Yoko's face. By the time he pulls back, Yoko's out of breath and suddenly extremely aware of how turned on he is. He makes an involuntary, pained sort of sound, wanting desperately to touch his cock, or for Hina to. Hina must hear the sound because he huffs a little laugh before leaning back, looking appraisingly at Yoko.

"Stand up," he says, after a moment.

Yoko's knees are a little stiff from kneeling for so long, and he winces a little as he gets to his feet. He feels more exposed standing up, even though he's physically above Hina, but he's also getting to the point where he's so turned on he almost can't differentiate between the rush of arousal and the burn of embarrassment. Hina spits in his palm, and Yoko barely manages to hold back his moan of anticipation at the sound of it. When Hina wraps a hand around his cock, he doesn't even try to hold back. Hina strokes him firmly, and within a few minutes Yoko feels like he's on the brink of coming.

That's when Hina stops.

Yoko makes a choked, pathetic sound, and his cock twitches. Hina's holding the base in a loose grip, and he looks up at Yoko with a thoughtful expression.

"Tell me what you want," he says.

Yoko flushes, annoyed and turned on and embarrassed all at once.

"You fucking _know_ what I want," he says, unable to keep himself from sniping at Hina a little while he has the chance.

Hina says nothing, just makes eye contact and slaps Yoko's cock. He doesn't do it very hard at all, just enough to sting for a second and make Yoko lose his breath, but it's enough of a warning.

"I want to come," Yoko says, the words coming out whinier than he'd intended.

Hina starts jerking him again, agonizingly slow and light.

"How? Like this?"

Yoko's almost ready to agree to that, he's so desperate to come, but then he looks down at Hina's cock, and he feels a surge of want.

"No," he says, shaking his head.

Hina doesn't stop, but when Yoko doesn't say any more, he speaks again.

"If you don't want to tell me, you can just jerk yourself off while I watch."

Yoko takes a shallow breath. The slow, light touch on his cock is maddening, making it hard to concentrate.

"I want you to fuck me," he says, voice quiet.

"And what do you say when you want something?" Hina's smiling.

"Please," Yoko mumbles, and Hina squeezes his cock. " _Please_ ," he says again, louder. Hina gives his cock a final stroke before he stands up, pulling Yoko closer to kiss him again. Yoko sucks on Hina's lower lip, tracing his tongue over it until Hina pulls away.

"On the bed," he says. "On your back."

Yoko scrambles onto the bed while Hina gets the lube and a condom from his bedside table. When he climbs onto the bed, Yoko spreads his legs, breath coming faster already. Hina slicks his fingers quickly, and soon he's pushing one in. Yoko shivers, his eyes falling closed with a sigh. Hina doesn't really take his time with it, which Yoko is glad for because he feels like he's been waiting for hours, and when Hina curls two fingers up, Yoko's back arches and he cries out.

"Fuck," Hina breathes, and leans in to suck at the head of Yoko's cock while he adds a third finger. Yoko pants, gripping the sheets on either side of him as he tries not to thrust up into Hina's mouth. He dips his tongue into the slit, twisting his fingers, and Yoko very nearly comes right there. He makes a strangled sound, and Hina pulls away, rolling the condom on and slicking himself with lube before he pushes in. Hina moves slowly, showing an impressive amount of restraint, and pauses once he's all the way in.

"I want you to ask for it," he says, bending over to speak in Yoko's ear. Yoko groans, a shiver running through him.

"Fuck me," he says; then, unprompted, "please."

"Good," Hina says, and pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in.

As Hina fucks him, Yoko feels like he can't breathe, his entire body caught up in pure physical sensation. He's so close to coming already, he doesn't think he'll even need his cock touched, but then Hina's hand is there, jerking him roughly. He urges Yoko to come and Yoko does, spilling hot onto his own stomach. Hina speeds up after that, and he comes just as Yoko's starting to come down, panting. He rolls off of Yoko, handing him some tissues from the bedside table before lying back, close but not touching. Yoko watches his eyes flick longingly toward the pack of cigarettes on the table.

"If you light up right now," he grumbles, "I will take the cigarette from your mouth and I will put it out on your _face_."

Hina looks a bit startled, then bursts out laughing.

It had been a little weird, the first few times they'd tried stuff like this, to just go straight back to their usual selves after it, but Yoko thinks, as he relaxes into the fuzzy feelings of afterglow, that they've kind of gotten the hang of it.


End file.
